Bonito

Bonito is the Portuguese word for beautiful. It is also the name of a small town in the edge of the Pantanal region of Brasil, except it isn’t…beautiful that is. In fact it is a fairly average rural town in a relatively poor part of the country so the streets are rough and dirty, many homes are run down and in need of TLC and businesses are struggling. But it is in an area of wonderful natural diversity. There are rivers, lakes, caves, waterfalls and jungles full of fabulous flora and fauna. We spend 3 days here exploring the area including two https://compassexpeditions.com/  complimentary excursions. Macaws and Toucans whirl overhead,

Red Macaw

monkeys play in the trees, Coatis (Coe-art ee),

Coatis

Capybara and Tapir roam the jungle and colourful fish swim in impossibly clear waters of the spring fed stream. Butterflies are everywhere and we even see a Cayman (Alligator). This place is amazing and as yet remains relatively unspoiled by tourism. Our two excursions see us swimming in waterfalls, leaping from high platforms

and snorkeling in the most perfectly clear water imaginable with all manner of beautiful fish you can reach out and almost touch.

Getting here from Rio de Janeiro has involved 1,800km of riding over three days through some of the most impressive farming country we have ever seen. Sugar cane and corn are grown on a scale similar to the wheat industry in Australia, only bigger, much bigger. There are all the requirements for successful agriculture here. Plenty of rain, warm weather, good soil and sophisticated management. Enormous silo complexes dot the landscape,

Silos are everywhere.

every town has a sugar mill and there are farm machinery dealers everywhere. For an agriculturist like me it is fairyland.

As Australians we have trouble coming to terms with the scale of population density. Every hundred km or so we pass by another city with high rise apartment blocks, factories, markets and perhaps a million people or more then immediately we are back in farming land. But as one local points out, Brasil is a rich country; the people are poor but the country (ruling elite) is rich.

Fuel stations in Brasil are like nothing we have ever seen; they are palatial. Even the bathrooms are five star with marble fixtures, potted plants and usually a full time attendant whom you are expected to tip.

Roadhouse bathroom!

There is always a proper restaurant attached with a beautiful selection of foods to choose from and a range of shops selling everything from fashion accessories and souvenirs to hardware and homewares. We guess the fuel companies are part of the elite.

We meet some interesting characters along the road like the Venezuelan refugee pulling a cart containing his life plus his 10 dogs.

We are not clear on whether he is in search of adventure, employment, enlightenment or all of the above. At first he refuses to be photographed but 20 Reals (about $6) later he is happy for us to snap away.

To break up the tedium of the long straight road we divert off into the corn fields for a little dirt road fun.

There is also some unusual (for us) road kill. First a giant Anteater then a Tapir and eventually a wild boar (Ok not so unusual in Oz) All are bloated and stinking so we don’t even slow down long enough to take a photo.

When we reach Bonito and check into our rather nice hotel we are greeted with the news there has been more severe flooding on the coast near Paraty where we had been playing carefree in the water a few days earlier. Eight people are dead, including several children from the same family and thirteen are still missing. We are once again moved to wonder at the inequity of a world where people are dying at Mother Nature’s hand and we are riding around the world without a care. A world that provides palatial bathrooms for paying customers yet compels people to live in abject squalor as seen below.

It’s dwellings like these that are washed away

It does no good to dwell too long on these thoughts; we are just grateful that we are fortunate enough to be in the position we are for tomorrow we move on again and who knows what that may bring.